


Momentum

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:50:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair defy the laws of Physics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Momentum

## Momentum

by Silk

Author's website:  <http://www.angelfire.com/ny4/tinsel/>

All things Sentinel belong to Pet Fly and Paramount. Not me. Not for profit.

As always, for Tinn.

This is the last story in an unnamed trilogy. Set post-Sentoo 2, but before TSbyBS.

This story is a sequel to: Gravity 

* * *

It wasn't like in the movies. I didn't dance down the corridor on happy feet, arms outstretched, expectantly waiting for my newfound lover to fill them. Nope, sorry to disappoint. 

By the time Jim got to the U, I was in the men's room. No, no, no, I wasn't in there enthusiastically whacking off in anticipation of what was to come. Nothing that exciting. 

I was washing my hands. 

I think Jim expected _more_. He came barreling through the door like gangbusters, all wild-eyed and halfway to frantic. He stopped where he stood, panting hard, and I realized that I had never seen Jim _this_ out of breath before. 

"Wow," I said, grinning. "You run all the way here?" 

Jim returned the smile, but though there was a minute amount of relaxation involved for all those magnificently sculpted muscles, the smile itself never reached his eyes. "You're here." 

I would have thought that was self-explanatory, but then I remembered, this is Jim. Jim Ellison is a damn good cop, but he doesn't do simple or easy. Everything between us, every single fucking misunderstanding or miscommunication, comes back to those things. He's a complicated man. His life made him that way. He's a struggle and a challenge and Goddammit, I wouldn't have him any other way. 

"What are you doing all the way over there?" I whispered, all that bravado fading like _that_. 

He shook his head slowly. 

"You got a thing for that door, man? You're standing so close to it. I mean, you're obviously holding up the wall, too. But I can tell you, this is a very old building. Built back in the 19th century. Those walls are older than you are, man. I don't think they need any help." 

"I do," he said softly. 

"Do what?" 

"Need help." 

I stowed the useless chatter. It wasn't doing a thing for my nerves or his. What we needed was proximity. 

I started to walk toward him, half-expecting him to back up, but he held his ground. When I finally reached him, he met my gaze evenly. Those light blue eyes I had come to love never left my face. 

"Can I help you, James?" 

"You're the only one who can, Chief." 

"What can I do for you?" I could hear the huskiness in my voice grow as I contemplated the possibilities. 

"Only everything," he said. He meant it, too. Almost four years of listening to Jimspeak and reading between the lines of practically every sentence the man uttered had given me an enviable fluency. 

"I'm not going to leave you." 

His eyes closed for a second as he took what seemed to be an impossibly deep breath. "I'm glad," he said shakily when he had enough air to speak. 

"Take me home?" 

He nodded. When he didn't move right away, I caught the sense that he was waiting for something. But what? 

Suddenly something clicked into place in my head. For a smart man, I don't always trust my common sense. He was waiting for me to give him permission. Damn. For someone who needed to be in control as badly as Jim, that was a powerful statement. Because it wasn't just about friendship. Or even love. 

It was about trust. Trust violated. Trust restored. 

We'd always trusted each other with our lives. But our hearts? Ah, that was a different matter. We hid our feelings for each other behind casual affairs and meaningless sex with all the wrong people. 

It's as if all along, we knew how important we were to one another. We knew that if we screwed this up, we could never go back to what we were. So we didn't take the next step. We acted like it wasn't even there. 

And after a while, maybe it wasn't. 

I grasped Jim's hand and pressed it to my cheek. "Would you like to hold me, James?" 

Like a stone monolith cracking open to reveal the tender giant inside, Jim swayed toward me. He trusted me to catch him. So I did. 

He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my hair. I could feel his ragged breath on my skin. I closed my eyes and went with the sensation of well-being that enveloped me. 

"I love you." 

Jesus. I knew that, I truly did. But the sound of his harsh whisper went right through me, touching me, heart and soul. For years, I told myself that I couldn't miss what I didn't have. 

I was wrong. 

I grieved the time we wasted as though it were a physical wound. "I should have said something-" 

"I wouldn't have listened." 

"I was always racing ahead." 

"And I was always too far behind." 

"Where are we now, James?" 

"Right where we belong." 

* * *

I don't remember the drive home. I don't remember getting out of the truck and taking the elevator to the third floor loft. But I remember something far more important than geography. 

Jim waited until we were safely behind locked doors before he kissed me. It was everything a first kiss should be. Tentative and seeking, cool and dry. Till his tongue slipped between my lips, turning things upside down and inside out. 

His hands were everywhere. In my hair, down my back, on my ass. His knee nudged my legs apart and suddenly pressed against my dick, which decided that love and lust were _not_ mutually exclusive and demanded proof of both. 

"W-w-wait," I moaned against his mouth. 

"What?" He looked deliciously rumpled, his short hair tousled and standing on end in several places. 

"Aren't we going to talk first?" 

"Does my dick get a vote?" 

"Boy, when you get with the program, you don't fool around. Is there a reason we have to go from Point A to Point B in sixty seconds? Or has foreplay gone completely out the window, man?" 

Jim rubbed a hand over the sticky tufts of hair on top of his head and started to laugh. "You think four years isn't long enough, Chief?" 

"Is _that_ what we were doing?" 

"Look, I love you, you love me. What more do we need?" 

I peered deep into those sharp Sentinel eyes. "You're still afraid of losing me." 

"No, I-" 

"You are, Jim. You just said so. You want to jump into bed as soon as we can because deep down, you don't think I'm going to be around long enough for this to happen more than once. What is it, Jim? You think I'm going to wake up in your arms, screaming that you stole my virtue, and take off for parts unknown?" 

Jim turned pale. "You wouldn't do that to me," he murmured. 

"No, I fucking wouldn't. Do you know why?" 

"Cause you love me?" I couldn't miss the hopeful inflection to that question. It wasn't quite a question, but it wasn't enough of a statement to satisfy me either. 

"Yes," I whispered. "I love you, James. I'd love you even if you _weren't_ a big dick cop." 

For a brief second, Jim looked startled. But then his entire face softened as he brushed my hair back with his fingertips. "Did we just have the talk you wanted to have?" 

"Yeah." 

"Good." 

* * *

It happened so quickly. One minute we were standing by the door of the loft, the next we were upstairs in Jim's bedroom. 

He wasted no time getting us both naked. He hooked an arm around my neck and started to kiss me. All over. 

By the time he made his way down to my dick, my legs gave out. I collapsed on the bed, a tangled mess of weak muscles and shattered nerve endings. And I didn't even come yet. 

"I thought _I_ was in charge." 

"Your turn next time, Chief." 

"Next time? Do I have time for a nap? I'm not as young as I used to be, y'know." I buried my head in what I was already thinking of as _my_ pillow. 

He licked behind my ear and my groin suddenly renewed its interest in the conversation. "Ummmm...." 

Jim chuckled low in his throat and proceeded to tongue-fuck my mouth. Strenuously. With a whimper, I relaxed against him, although "relaxed" would probably not be the most accurate description of how it felt to have James Joseph Ellison's big dick knocking at my back door. 

"Ummm..." 

"You're starting to repeat yourself, Chief." 

"Well, I mean, uh, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but a certain amount of prep comes into play right about now. For that to happen. I mean, if you want to...you know." 

"Oh, I definitely want to fuck your hot little ass." 

I shivered with anticipation even as I wondered what he would feel like buried deep inside of me. 

"Are you thinking about it?" 

"Oh, yeah...." 

He kissed me, his tongue long and lingering, but his hand between my legs caught the rest of what was left of my attention span. His fingers were coated with something slick. One at a time, they headed for my opening, disappearing within me. 

When Jim could spread three fingers without causing me to freeze, I figured I was pretty much ready. It wasn't like I was a virgin, for God's sake. It had just...been a while. 

The moment he touched me with something that wasn't his hand...well, let's just say, my dick knows the difference between real and Memorex. He slid inside me and it was like, God, it was like coming home, it felt that right. 

He started to move. I started to pant. Almost immediately, I was ready to come. Which was definitely not a bad thing. 

He bent his head and kissed my neck, his tongue tracing random patterns on my skin. Then his tongue was replaced by his mouth, sucking at the very same spot until- 

"You marked me!" I know it sounds, what, archaic? To cling to the notion of being marked. But for me, it's part of an erotic fantasy I've managed to keep to myself for years. 

I could tell by the look on Jim's face that he was getting ready to apologize. "No!" I protested. "Please-don't-I love-want more-" Damn. What I struggled to say, in my own incoherent way, was that I wanted, maybe even _needed_ this. 

To reduce me to inarticulate goo is no small feat. But we weren't even done yet. 

Lowering his mouth to mine, Jim took advantage of my poor, neglected lower lip. He licked and nipped and bit until it was quite swollen. Then he kissed me, his thumb playing with the corner of my mouth until I opened for him. His thumb wet with saliva, he trailed the damp finger down my body. He stopped when he reached my dick, massaging the slit at the top which was already slick with pre-come. 

By now, my body was completely adjusted to the fullness and thickness of Jim's cock inside my narrow channel. Desperate to come now, I shifted my hips in frustration. "Take me now. Please, James." 

Moving at what could only be called a leisurely pace, Jim established a rhythm that was destined to take my head off. If I ever came. I was trembling all over. Suddenly I had all this rampant energy, but nowhere for it to go. 

All at once Jim started to thrust erratically, faster and harder and deeper. All that energy pooled in one place: my groin. His hand stroked my dick at almost the same pace that he fucked me. He was losing control. His hand clenched almost spasmodically as I spilled myself with a triumphant cry. 

A moment later, he came, emptying his hot seed inside me. Just the feel of those wet pulses throbbing within me was enough to make my cock twitch interestedly. But it was too well-satisfied to do more than that. 

With a heavy sigh, I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Stay in me." 

"You'll be sore," he said as he withdrew gently. Obviously reluctant to leave, even to retrieve a towel or two, he grabbed his T-shirt off the floor, using that to clean up both of us. 

Just the brief moment he moved away made me miss the warmth of his body. When he turned back to face me, I loved the way he looked. Unguarded. Vulnerable. Open. He laid it all out there for me. 

How could you not love someone who's willing to trust you _that_ much? 

This time I wrapped more than my arms around him. I nestled against him, my leg insinuating itself between his. There was no way he was going anywhere without me for the rest of the night. 

Make that the rest of our lives. 

"Happy?" he whispered. 

"Ecstatic," I whispered back, a bubble of giddiness threatening my equilibrium. 

Suddenly his breath was in my hair again. "I love you." 

"I love you, too." 

As an afterthought, I added, "James." 

He kissed me. 

I think he likes it. 

* * *

End Momentum by Silk: silkn1@worldnet.att.net

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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